


The Heart of Him

by miaspeaksblog



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crying, Feelings, Feels, Gen, Hurt, M/M, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 00:07:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miaspeaksblog/pseuds/miaspeaksblog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is drafted (again) in the war. Post-Reichenbach</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eye of the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, I had this dream, and it was THIS Johnlock fanfic. So, I woke up crying, whether it was because of the feels, or it was because I had dreamt up a fanfiction, I still don't know. All I gotta say is I really hope you enjoy it! Feel free to leave comments! I will answer any and all questions~ <3

Sherlock stepped into his flat to see John sitting in his chair. John stared at a sheet of paper he held in front of his face. Judging by John's irregular breathing, the way John's hair was mussed and the John's shaking hands, Sherlock deduced that John didn't like that sheet of paper. While Sherlock was worried, he was also slightly amused that someone could be afraid of a sheet of paper with some text on it.

"John?" Even though Sherlock hadn't spoken very loud at all, John jumped up, startled, and stared around at Sherlock. A surprised "oh" was left unspoken on John's lips, and the paper slipped from between his fingers. 

The rectangular sheet of paper floated about and came to rest at Sherlock's feet. His eyes widened in shock and disbelief as his eyes scanned the sheet of paper.

\----------------------

To: **Dr. John H. Watson** of **221 Baker Street, London**

#### Greeting:

You are hereby ordered for induction into Her Majesty's Armed Forces, and to report at **148 Old Street, London, Station 3 & 4** on **March 6, 2015** at **6:30 A.M.** for forwarding to an Armed Forces Induction Station.

\----------------------

Sherlock whispered, "The bloody hell, John . . . March 6, that's in two days. . . "

"I know it is! I just - want to know wh-y??" John's voice cracked on the last word, turning it into two separate syllables. Not normal John-behavior, but then again, it wasn't a normal situation. 

_'But I came back! I had wanted to see you! Why? You're the greatest man to have ever walked upon this Earth, and the mere fact that I know you and that you're my one and only best friend is more than someone like me could ever ask for; don't go John, please. . . '_  
It occurred to Sherlock after John had left and he was sitting in his chair, watching the dust float about his sitting room, that he hadn't said any of that aloud. 

Sherlock just stood in the door, coat still on, the shocked look still on his face. 

John just stood in front of his chair, hands stilled, an anguished, confused look on his face.

They stood like that, in silence for a while, when they suddenly stirred the dust in the room. They stood in the sitting room, hugging, for a long while, it had seemed. 

Sherlock didn't know that last time he had felt the need to hug anyone, even his own mother. In fact, he wasn't a touchy-feely person at all; he avoided it at all costs. Why now, Sherlock couldn't begin to fathom, but he didn't even really care; his head was fuzzy with confusion and shock and feeling of John's heart beating an erratic tattoo upon his chest as John clung to him as though he was never going to let go.


	2. Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is missing

Sherlock groaned and fell onto the couch. Another case done and gone; the woman's brother's best friend had murdered the woman's husband in a fabulously grotesque manner due to jealousy. 

Case over; now he was bored and thinking of John again. 

_How long was John gone by now?_

Agitated, Sherlock dug his head into the cushions of the couch and groaned again. His action upset several piles of paper and a couple of different folders, and so the ground was then made of papers concerning three or four separate cases, all of which were solved and now boring.

_three months_

Sherlock sighed and got up, disheveled hair pointing every which way, and stood up rather quickly. In his sudden rush, Sherlock slipped on some of the papers and back onto the couch. He stayed there for a long time, bored out of his mind and missing his blogger more than anything. 

Months passed in this same manner; he reverted to the same manner of life he had before he had even met John, yet something was different. Without John, life was.... _dull_...

_August 13, 2015_

Sherlock came home after running around London, studying it for the 483rd time. Ms. Hudson met him at the door of 221B and handed Sherlock a letter; he glanced curiously at her face, or rather he expression it held. It slightly worried Sherlock, but he took the letter anyway and went up to his sitting room and tossed the letter onto his coffee table, letting it blend in with the rest of the sea of papers.

Sherlock proceeded through the day, the letter not on his mind until he finally managed to get a paper cut from an envelope on his coffee table. Angry, Sherlock had thrown the envelope across the room. It was then that Sherlock saw from who the letter was from.

**Her Majesty's Armed Forces**

Sherlock felt his mouth go dry; why would he get a letter from Her armed forces and not from Dr. John H. Watson of Her armed forces...? More importantly, why would _he_ receive the letter?

Sherlock, curious and worried at the same time, took a tentative step forward, then another, and another until he finally reached the letter. It had seemed like it was miles away, and that it took forever to finally reach the letter. He picked up the letter and simply stared at it. He noticed that beside Her Armed Forces was Harry Watson's name in tiny scribble, and that a different address had been covered up with a little white sticker with Sherlock's flat number address on it (also scribbled on in blue pen); Sherlock realized that the letter must have been sent to John's brother, who (kindly) sent it to Sherlock.

Finally, _finally_ , Sherlock carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the letter held captive inside of it. Silently, Sherlock read it.

####  _Dear **Harry Watson** , We are sorry to inform you that **Dr. John H. Watson** has gone missing in action. Your family member's belongings will be sent to you **a week** from now. Sincerely, **General Major Tom**_

Sherlock felt the room spinning around him. John, _missing??_ He's _gone gone gone_ now... 

__

## Gone...

Sherlock fell to the ground gracefully, surrounded by black velvet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guyss!! i had such a hard time figuring how to string together this chapter!! >w

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the shortness!! -rolls on floor sobbing- they-they're all gonna be shortt!!! -sobs harder-


End file.
